


Yuiitsu No Mono (I’m The Only One In The World)

by aegicheezu



Series: Yuiitsu No Mono (I’m The Only One In The World) - An Onmyoji!Lock AU [1]
Category: Japanese Mythology, Onmyouji | The Yin-Yang Master (Movies), Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: ACD pastiche, Alternate Universe - Detectives, Detectives, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Flirting, Height Differences, Japanese Culture, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Making Out, Modern Era, Mutual Pining, Pastiche, Pining, Sherlock (TV) Season/Series 04 Fix-it, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, TJLC | The Johnlock Conspiracy, johnlock au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-25 11:43:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14377932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aegicheezu/pseuds/aegicheezu
Summary: Tokyo, 2018. Seimei is the world’s only consulting detective; it’s a difficult and oftentimes lonely job, but someone has to do it. One day, an absent-minded but delightful young man named Hiromasa literally crashes into his life; and he brings with him a most mysterious case – the rest, as they say, is history.





	1. Totemo Taikutsuda (God, I’m Bored)

**Author's Note:**

> This is the Onmyoji x Sherlock Holmes adaptation I’ve been trying to write for years – I’ve complained about it on Tumblr quite a bit, so it’s about time I wrote the damned thing. Containing iconic lines from both the Onmyoji film and BBC’s Sherlock, this story is heavily inspired by both. 
> 
> *If you’re here because of Onmyoji, check out BBC Sherlock (but you can leave Series 4, it was trash). If you’re here because of BBC Sherlock, check out the Onmyoji films! 
> 
> *song reference: Wataridori by [Alexandros] - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O_DLtVuiqhI

 

“Seimei!” the familiar, but shrill voice of his landlady called from the landing, disturbing his meditations. “Seimei! Get down here!” _What is it this time? I swear, my day is incomplete if she doesn’t yell at me…_ Seimei sighed theatrically and slipped on his white silk robe, bracing himself for Mitsumushi’s wrath. He’d come home rather late the previous night and had likely left his shoes in a muddy disarray. And Mitsumushi was fastidious in her cleanliness; it was a wonder the two got on at all; in the three years since he had moved in, the pair almost never had a day without some sort of conflict.

“What have I done now, Mitsumushi?” his voice was tired, raspy from not having spoken for a while. He eyed the muddy and bloody mess of shoes in the entryway. “Ah,” he noted. “I’m sorry.”

“What the hell did you get up to last night? Look at this mess you’ve left me.”

“For heaven’s sake, It’s just shoes---”

Mitsumushi cut him off, “No it’s not! The kitchen is filthy!” She pointed gracelessly towards their shared kitchen. “You haven’t done the washing up in days! How hard is it to keep to our arrangement, Seimei? You get the whole upstairs, I get the downstairs, but the kitchen is shared and we both have to keep it clean! I’m your landlady, not your housekeeper! I swear, one of these days I’m going to change the locks on you.”

Seimei did his best to look apologetic, though desperate to laugh; he’d been subject to this rant hundreds of times, after all. “I’m sorry. I had a rough night last night.” He picked up one of his shoes and ran a delicate hand over the sole, a smudge of red blood coming off on his pale skin.

Mitsumushi gasped. “Oh my god, Seimei! Whose blood is that? Are you hurt? Why didn’t you call me for help?” She was still visibly annoyed, but her tone began to change upon seeing the blood smeared on his skin.

“It’s not mine, don’t make a fuss,” he shook his head. “I got in a bit of a fight with a low-level Yakuza, the blood’s his. Chief Aone wanted me to help her close a case. I’m sorry for the mess, Mitsu,” he used the cute form of her name to try and soften her. “I’ll clean the kitchen now, alright?”

“No, it’s fine,” Mitsumushi grumbled, conceding the point. “You obviously had a rough time last night. Why don’t you go for a walk or something? After you’ve slept it off.”

Seimei knew it was useless to argue with her; she was a small woman, but fearsome and with a temper that would rival that of a vengeful spirit’s. He thanked her for understanding and slunk back up to his rooms. He slid the door of his bedroom closed and rolled back onto the bed and sighed.

 _Last night was rather fun,_ Seimei mused, stretching his long legs. _What now? Aone’s been begging me to help close that Yakuza case, and now it’s wrapped up at last. I need something new…_ he turned onto his side and picked up his cell phone, staring at the screen. He blinked. _What am I waiting for? No one ever texts me. Not unless they need something from me, anyway…_ he sighed again and replaced the phone on his bedside table. _Abe no Seimei, consulting detective, doesn’t know how to keep a friend long enough to even invite them over for dinner… how pathetic,_ he grimaced, suddenly feeling very self-pitying.

He always got that way after a case wrapped up. If he wasn’t occupied by the thrill of a case, he was usually alone – well, except for his landlady. But they barely got on, so she didn’t quite count. It had been this way for a long time; even before he’d started branding himself as a consulting detective. He was always incredibly observant, even as a child. When he was just six, he figured out that his own father was cheating on his mother; a devoted son and still quite naïve about the world, he told her what he found out; that led to a messy separation which caused his father severe embarrassment – he’d had to resign from his position at the company he worked for, and Seimei knew he still didn’t forgive him for that. As he grew older, his relationship with both parents grew distant, and he moved out of the family home as soon as he was able. With his grades, he’d easily gotten into Tokyo University, where he studied forensics and criminology. He had graduated at the top of his class, but not without earning a reputation for being a cold, rain-man type. Seimei never really cared about the labels that others had plastered onto him – he told himself that he was better off alone, that all that really mattered was the work. But, when there was no more work to do, what was left?

 _Maybe I should go out and get some air after all,_ he thought. _Can’t stay in the house all day and have a pity-party._ He scrolled through the music on his phone and settled on a band that Mitsumushi had recommended to him – he wasn’t very good at keeping up with current music – and sang along as he dressed to go out.

 _I wanna fly so high  
_ _Yeah, I know my wings are dried  
_ _“Raise your wings,” the people say  
_ _Only the heartless lies in the beyond  
_ _Those who fly, those who fall  
_ _No one's watching  
_ _Or is noticing  
_ _But I continued to fly…_

 

Seimei shook his head at the appropriateness of the music and wondered if his subconscious was trying to keep his spirits up. _Ridiculous,_ he mused, as he gingerly picked up his jacket from the back of his desk chair and slipped out of his room and out the door before Mitsumushi could bite his head off about the dead mice in the freezer.

*

The Spring air was crisp, but the sun beat down on Seimei with a welcome warmth. The Winter had felt far too long, and it seemed that everyone had been eagerly awaiting the promise of a warm April. _The cherry trees will be blooming soon, won’t they?_ He pondered as he walked along the familiar streets of his neighborhood. _Where should I go?_ The streets were not yet full of life; being a Monday afternoon, children were in school and everyone else was at work. The only people that seemed to be out and about were pensioners and the sweet elderly woman who sold pork buns on the corner. Seimei smiled to himself and crossed the street, giving in to the low rumbling in his stomach.

“Sei-kun, you’re back again today,” she smiled brightly, her eyes kind and wrinkled with age.

“Akane-obaasan, it wouldn’t be Monday if I didn’t buy my lunch from you,” he smiled back. “How was your weekend?” He slipped behind the glass display and presented her with a small box of chocolates – a gift from the precinct for solving the Yakuza case, but Seimei didn’t like chocolate.

“Sei-kun, what’s this for?” she accepted the box and patted his cheek softly. “You should give chocolates to a girl you like, not an old grandma like me.”

 _That’s a laugh,_ Seimei thought. “It’s your birthday soon, obaasan.” _Your memory is going, isn’t it?_ He realized sadly. 

“Oh! I suppose it is.” She smiled and pinched Seimei’s cheek. “Thank you, Sei-kun. You’re such a sweet boy.”

Seimei looked down, a little embarrassed. “Not at all, obaasan,” he blushed. “I just wanted to make you smile. You work so hard, every day.”

“You always make me smile, Sei-kun. With your fancy stories, all your adventures. Such a good boy.” She nodded to herself and went to put the chocolates in a safe place. “A good boy.” When she returned, she wrapped up an extra bun for Seimei to take along with him. “Now, you eat up, Sei-kun. You’re too skinny. Go on, have a good day. And smile a little more!” she took his hand in hers, paper-thin skin with a tight grip. “You’re such a handsome boy, like my grandson. Smiling makes a man much more handsome.”

Allowing himself to blush at her fussing, Seimei nodded. “Alright, obaasan. I’ll smile more. If it’s for you, I’ll do it.”

“Such a good boy, Sei-kun. Now go on,” she patted his cheek again and waved her hand. “I’ll see you again soon.”

“Have a good day, Akane-obaasan,” Seimei squeezed her hand. “I’ll bring you something delicious for your birthday.”

*

Seimei continued on his walk, munching happily on one of the pork buns that Akane had given him. How long have I been getting my lunches from her? He wondered. Surely, it was before he’d moved in to Mitsumushi’s house. And thank god for that! He was far too unsociable for a proper housemate, and no one from his university would have ever wanted to move in with him, anyway. _Oh well,_ he thought, _I suppose things have a way of working themselves out in the end. At least I’m not couch-surfing at my brother’s place any more._ He turned the corner, looking for a trash bin to dispose of the bun wrapper; his head turned, he did not notice the young man barreling towards him.

A collision.

“Ah! Watch where you’re going!” Seimei exclaimed, forgetting his politeness.

“Sorry!” The young man was red-faced; he bowed in embarrassment. “I’m sorry!” he had dropped the files he’d been carrying and bent to pick them up. Seimei followed suit, helping him.

“It’s alright,” he replied, studying the other man’s handsome face. _Office worker,_ he noted. _Late twenties, like me. Skipped breakfast. From Gifu, with that accent._ “I’m sorry I was so rude,” he handed the loose papers to the man. They stood up in unison, smoothing their clothes.

“I know you…” the man cocked his head, trying to place Seimei in his mind. “Ah!” he exclaimed, tapping his chin. “You’re Abe no Seimei, the detective, aren’t you!”

Seimei ran a hand through his hair, looking down at the cobbled street. “That’s me, yes,” he said. “I’m sorry to have made you late for your meeting with the company boss.” He looked the other man up and down. _Such a handsome face, with that tanned skin._

“My… meeting…?” the man wondered aloud. “How did you know…?” he blinked a few times, then nodded his head. “Ah, please tell me how you deduced that!”

Seimei shook his head, and smiled, despite himself. “The suit you are wearing, it’s the nicest one you have,” he began. “But your belt is worn and the holes are bent out of shape, which tells me that most of your clothes aren’t as sharp as this; so, you’re off somewhere important. It’s Monday, which means you must be going to work. You’re wearing Chanel’s _Platinum Egoiste_ , which tells me you want to impress. You’ve recently had your hair cut, as well. You’re running back to the office after having spent too long at lunch, where you ate…” he studied the young man’s face closely. “pre-packaged sushi from the mart down the road. And,” he reached out and slipped the young man’s day-planner from his arm, “This fell open on the bookmarked page,” he flipped the book open and held it in front of the other man, “you’ve got it written down right here. Meeting with Chief Murakami.”

The other man’s smile grew wide. “Amazing!” he laughed, taking his diary back from Seimei. “You’ve really got a gift, you know. I’m always reading about you in the paper. It’s such a pleasure to meet you, Seimei-san.” He extended his hand for Seimei to shake; Seimei took it.

“The pleasure is mine,” he replied politely. “Mister…?”

“Ah!” the young man exclaimed. “Hiromasa,” he replied. “Minamoto no Hiromasa.”

“It’s good to meet you, Hiromasa-san.” He smiled, studying the young man. “Now, you should be on your way, shouldn’t you? You’re already running late.”

Hiromasa checked his watch. “You’re right!” he bowed his head. “I’m sorry for bumping into you, Seimei-san! I’ll be off now! It was good to meet you!” Seimei smiled. _I’m not sorry you bumped into me,_ he thought.

“Off you go, now, Hiromasa-san. Good luck at your meeting.” He waved.

With that, Hiromasa was gone; leaving Seimei on the corner watching as he disappeared into the afternoon scenery.

 _Today is interesting, after all,_ he mused.

 

*

*

*

*

fore reference, this is what my Seimei (Sherlock) looks like: Nomura Mansai, who plays Seimei in the films

 

and this is my Hiromasa (John): Ito Hideaki, who plays Hiromasa in the films

 

this is Mitsumushi (Mrs. Hudson): Imai Eriko, who plays Mitsumushi in the films


	2. Anata wa Totemo Omoshiroidesu (You’re interesting)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seimei is visited by a familiar face; and something changes.

The rest of Seimei’s day had been rather uneventful; he had ended up walking through Shibuya and people-watching – something he did often, but not for fun. He found it useful to keep his skills sharp, and where better to observe such a wide variety of people? And in such a densely crowded place, it was easy for him to maintain his anonymity. Not that he was all that popular; but he always found it annoying when he was recognized, and people would walk up to him and ask for help with the most trivial of matters; _why won’t my girlfriend text me back? Is my son lying to me about doing well in school?_ He much preferred handling cases from the comfort of his rooms, where he had space to think properly.

Now, at last back in the quiet of his bedroom, he allowed himself once again to think of the handsome man he’d bumped into earlier that day. _I wonder how that meeting of his went,_ he mused, running a hand through his hair. _He seemed quite nervous about it. I hope he made it on time, in the end._

A knock at his bedroom door.

“Hmm?” he muttered.

“Seimei, you have a client,” Mitsumushi called from the other side. How different her tone was when they had a client! Seimei smiled.

“I’ll be right out,” he called back, and checked his hair in the small mirror at his desk. He thanked Mitsumushi and went into the next room, his “office,” where he took cases. His eyes fell upon the figure sat in one of the two chairs, and his smile grew.

“Hiromasa-san,” Seimei greeted, his tone smooth. “What brings you here?” he tried to hide his delight at seeing the handsome young man again. _How fortuitous!_ “How was your meeting?”

“Seimei-san!” Hiromasa smiled back, “that’s actually why I’ve come.”

“Don’t tell me,” Seimei said playfully. “You want to know if you’re going to be promoted?” the men laughed; he sat in the chair opposite Hiromasa. Mitsumushi entered with a tray of tea and snacks for them both – Seimei nodded his thanks and she went back downstairs. Seimei poured Hiromasa a cup of tea and handed it to him, the subtlest jump in his heart at the touch of the other man’s hand.

“Thank you,” Hiromasa took a sip before continuing. “Actually, it’s not about me. In my meeting with Chairman Murakami, he mentioned that his son Atsuhira has grown very ill, but no doctor knows what’s wrong with him. He is concerned about the child’s health, because---”

“Because he will eventually inherit the company,” Seimei completed, understanding.

“Yes, exactly.” Hiromasa continued, “it was good fortune that I bumped into you today, because when Murakami told me about his troubles, I recommended that he hire you; I explained that we had met by chance and that I’d seen your skill firsthand. He’d very keen to meet with you and find out what’s wrong with his son.”

 _There’s no such thing as coincidence,_ Seimei mused. “How very interesting,” he took another sip of his tea. “The heir to a large telecommunications firm has fallen mysteriously ill, and no doctor can discern the cause. What makes your boss think I can help? I’m no doctor, I’m a detective.”

“Because I told him how clever you are,” Hiromasa smiled at Seimei through long eyelashes, the teacup against his lips. “I read the details of your last case that was in the papers with great interest, it was like an old crime novel! How on earth did you know that the theatre director had killed the lead actress?”

“Because of the gum on the bottom of his shoe,” Seimei laughed, his voice like a gentle bell. “It really was quite obvious.”

“To you, perhaps!” Hiromasa sat forward in the chair. “So, will you take the case?”

Seimei pretended to think for a moment. “I will.”

*

The evening passed quite quickly – Hiromasa and Seimei spent an hour simply chatting; once he had agreed to take the case, they were free to discuss just about anything else. Mitsumushi, realizing that the young man had not yet left the house, came back upstairs and gently knocked on the door.

“Would you two like dinner?” She poked her head in. “I was thinking of making some fried chicken.”

“Oh!” Hiromasa’s back straightened; he had been unaware of how much time had passed. “I’m so sorry to have kept you so long, Seimei-san. I should go.” He rose to leave, but Seimei raised an elegant hand, stopping him.

“Would you…” he ventured, “would you like to stay for dinner?” He scanned Hiromasa’s expression for interest, and found it in the young man’s eyes. “Mitsumushi is an excellent chef.” _Please stay,_ he found himself wishing.

Hiromasa thought a moment. “Alright,” he agreed, but you must let me return the favor, some time,” he smiled.  Seimei could not help it; in that smile, he read a hundred different things – all of which instantly endeared him to Hiromasa. _Oh no,_ he realized, _how could I come to like this man so quickly?_

*

Dinner, as usual, was delicious; and very useful – Seimei and Hiromasa spoke easily with each other, and that gave Seimei even more insight into just who this handsome young man was. An only-child, who found this company job straight from university; was never the top-student, but his grades weren’t bad. Clearly, he was well-liked at school, his oblivious nature and easy talking style was an endearing quality. Not much luck with women, though, he’d mentioned – Seimei could trace that to his dormant homosexuality within moments of first meeting him; though, he’d left that out of his original deductions. After all, they’d only just met. But, that at least gave him a glimmer of hope; suddenly, he felt like a schoolboy, hesitating to give a chocolate to the one he has a crush on White Day. _Focus,_ Seimei, _remember the work._ Though, that was proving to be difficult; whether Hiromasa knew it or not, he was sending Seimei signals all through dinner that he was interested in him; Seimei suspected that even Mitsumushi had picked up on it.

When he at last sent Hiromasa off and waved goodbye, closing the front door, he let out a long sigh. Mitsumushi, never one to miss a beat, made a face.

“You like him, don’t you.” She smiled mischievously. Seimei stalked back into the kitchen, waving her away. “You do like him! I can see it in your face!” she followed right behind.

“What are you talking about, Mitsu?” Seimei tried to affect a cool and unbothered tone, and set to washing the dishes, his back to her.

“Oh, come on!” She poked him. “I’ve never seen you that keen on a client before. And we’ve never had one stay for dinner.” She bumped hips with him and picked up a plate. “From what I could tell, he likes you too.”

“How on earth could you have figured that out?” Seimei flicked dishwater at her face. “You’ve been hanging around me too much, you think you know how to read people.”

“Maybe I learn by observation, jackass,” she replied, still grinning. “So, are you going to ask him out?” She stared at him expectantly, making doe-eyes.

“Oh, shut up,” he began to blush. _I wish I could turn that off,_ he cursed. _She’s right, of course. How annoying._ “He doesn’t even know he’s gay, Mitsu.”

“Sometimes, I wonder what it’s like, in that funny little head of yours, Seimei,” she sighed. “You really ought to try and just go with the flow of things, instead of analyzing everything before you take a step.”

“I prefer to know exactly what will come from the choices I make, you know that.” His tone grew sad, without him meaning it to. “I’ve hurt too many people by just going with the flow. I don’t want to hurt anyone, any more. I just want to help.”

“I know, Seimei,” Mitsumushi patted his back. “You go on upstairs, I’ll finish up here. At any rate, you got his number, didn’t you?”

“It’s for the case.”

“Oh, come on!” she smiled, genuinely. “Didn’t you see how he licked his lips when you said goodbye? Text him. I guarantee he’s waiting for it.”

Seimei shoved Mitsumushi good-naturedly, and went upstairs to rest.

He stared at his phone for some time, trying to decide whether to text or not. Before he could make up his mind, his phone vibrated in his hand.

 **H:** thank you for your help today, Seimei-san. I’ll see you tomorrow at the office, right?

He smiled.


	3. Issho ni shigoto shimashou (Let’s Work Together)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hiromasa and Seimei are on the case - and find they are perfectly matched.

The journey to Hiromasa’s office building wasn’t terribly long; Seimei wondered why he’d never bumped into the man before yesterday. As he prepared to round the corner and head into the building to meet with Hiromasa, he took a moment and adjusted his suit – he was going to have to blend in with the other businessmen, after all. Today, he chose a grey suit, white shirt and deep purple tie – Mitsumushi had made a fuss over how handsome he looked, teasing him about how much time he must have spent on his hair getting ready.

_“Don’t you look handsome for your date!”_

_“It’s not a date, Mitsu.”_

_“Are you excited to see him again?”_

_“It’s for a case.”_

_“True, but look how you blushed when I mentioned him. I just hope you invite your long-suffering landlady to your wedding.”_

He smiled. Mitsumushi could be worse than a yokai when she was mad about something, but really, she wasn’t always so rough around the edges. She liked the house kept clean because it had been her parent’s home, and they had left it to her – they died in a car crash a year before Seimei had moved in. She’d only agreed to take on a lodger because the space was too big for her to live in alone, and she could use the extra money. _I really shouldn’t try to wind her up as often as I do,_ Seimei chastised himself. _She’s had a hard time. We understand each other, that’s enough… isn’t it?_

He checked his face in the tinted window of a parked car before turning the corner and walking up to the large, glass building. He noticed Hiromasa waiting for him in front of the main doors and felt his heart leap. _Come now, Seimei,_ he tried to calm himself, _don’t act so smitten! This is for a case!_ Hiromasa wasn’t looking at him; his eyes were fixed on his phone, completely oblivious to the rest of the world. There was the tiniest curl of a smile on his lips.

Seimei walked right up to him, barely two feet apart. He smiled and tapped the edge of Hiromasa’s phone with a single finger.

“Good morning, Hiromasa-san,” his voice cool, even.

“Ah!” Hiromasa looked up at last. “I didn’t see you! I was reading.” He stood up and shook Seimei’s hand, tucking his phone in his pants pocket.

“What were you reading?” Seimei asked, curious.

“Oh,” Hiromasa ran a hand through his hair, looking down slightly. _He’s embarrassed?_   Seimei noted. _How cute._ “I was reading articles about you, actually.” He smiled.

“Which case of mine had you so enraptured that you didn’t even notice me walking up to you, I wonder?” Seimei couldn’t help but tease.

“One of your first, actually,” Hiromasa explained. “Or at least, one of the first that made the papers. How you infiltrated and broke up that Chinese smuggling ring, and saved that museum curator from being killed? It reads like fiction, but it’s all true, isn’t it – and you were only 21 when you cracked it.” Suddenly, a light turned on behind Hiromasa’s eyes, and he opened his bag, producing a can of coffee which he gave to Seimei. “Here,” he explained, “it’s a little thank-you, for dinner last night.”

Seimei took it. “I won’t drink it unless you’ve got one for yourself, too,” he looked at the other man kindly. “Didn’t you buy one for yourself?”

Hiromasa laughed. “In my haste to get here on time, I only bought the one, for you.”

“Well then,” Seimei cocked his head to the side, motioning to the drink machine across the way. “Let me buy you one, and we can drink together.”

“But then, that cancels out my thanks, doesn’t it?” Hiromasa wondered aloud.

“I’m sure you’ll find another way to thank me once I’ve solved the case.” Seimei turned and walked over to the drink machine to buy Hiromasa a canned coffee. If he’d looked back, he would have seen Hiromasa unconsciously lick his bottom lip watching Seimei walk away.

*

Hiromasa knocked on the Chairman’s office door, slightly ajar. “Come in,” his voice seemed terribly tired. But then, he was under considerable strain; the heir to his company, his young son, was struck by a mysterious ailment.

“Chairman Murakami,” Hiromasa bowed sharply upon entering; Seimei followed suit. “I’ve brought Abe no Seimei to consult with you about Atsuhira.”

The Chairman’s mood changed considerably, and he stood from his chair behind the desk. “Please, come in, come in!” He came out from behind the desk and took Seimei’s hands in his, grip tight. “Seimei-san, can I get you anything? Please sit. I must speak with you.” He motioned for both men to sit and called to his secretary for tea.

“I’m at your service, entirely,” Seimei said calmly, voice empathetic. “Please, Chairman. Sit down, and explain everything in as much detail as you can. The more you are able to tell me, the easier this case will be for me to solve.”

The Chairman explained that his son Atsuhira had been a very healthy baby, and was walking, even reading and talking normally for a child of his age – “my wife insists that he’s ahead of most boys his age, but I don’t know all that much about children’s development.” – he handed Seimei photos of Atsuhira from a month ago, and a photo of him from a few days ago; there was a marked change in his appearance. He had grown skinnier, and more pale – his hair even seemed thinner.

“The doctors have been baffled by his transformation,” the Chairman continued, and my wife is a wreck – she herself has stopped eating, fearful to leave the child’s side even for a moment. Seimei-san, Atsuhira is our only child. My wife and I cannot have any more children… my wife, she…”

“I understand,” Seimei interjected softly. “You do not have to explain. I have my initial suspicions about what might be happening to Atsuhira, but would you permit me to look him over, in person?”

“Yes, of course. I’ll call my wife and have her bring him---”

“No need to disturb him, if he is resting,” Seimei continued, “I will call on your wife after I have finished examining the office. Could you please provide me with a contact sheet and photographs of your employees, the ones who you associate with directly?”

“Yes, of course,” the chairman was struck by Seimei’s sure nature. “I will release any documentation you may need. Please, feel free to explore the building and interview anyone you like.”

Seimei took a chance, and ventured, “I will of course be requiring the services of Minamoto for the duration of this investigation,” he glanced at Hiromasa.

“Me, Seimei-san?” Hiromasa was genuinely surprised.

“Who better to guide me through everything?” Seimei smiled, tone professional. “If the Chairman is seen snooping around the office, it will arouse suspicion. He must continue to appear as though all is normal.”

The Chairman thought it over a moment, then, nodding his head, “Hiromasa, you will assist Seimei-san in any way he needs. There will of course be a substantial reward, should you resolve this quickly and quietly. I cannot afford the embarrassment of a police inquiry.”

“Understood, sir,” Seimei nodded. “Shall we begin?” He turned to Hiromasa, who nodded in agreement. “Please let your wife know that I will visit with her and Atsuhira before dinnertime,” he tapped his chin, and made a soft humming noise. “I have a feeling this will wrap up quickly.”

*

“Seimei-san, what exactly are you looking for?” Hiromasa yawned, already exhausted from the research, and handed him another packet of employee information sheets. The pair had installed themselves in a small unused office, mainly used for meetings. There, they would have privacy and could speak freely.

“I’ll know once I’ve found it,” he replied, not looking up from the pages. “Tell me, Hiromasa-san, what kind of a boss is that man?”

“Hey!” Hiromasa chastised, “you can’t just call the Chairman ‘that man,’ Seimei-san.” The two looked at each other for a beat, but Hiromasa broke eye contact first and looked back down at the papers. “He’s a good boss. Kind, but expects a lot. He’s made a few enemies in his tenure as Chairman, I suppose. But he is a good man.”

“Perhaps we should be looking at the employee records of those he’s fired in the last six months. Could you---”

“I’ll go and get Akiko to bring us the files,” Hiromasa finished Seimei’s thought and rose from the table, smiling. “It’s really a pleasure to watch you work, you know,” he closed the door gently behind him, leaving Seimei alone to blush at the compliment. _The pleasure is mine,_ Seimei thought.

**Some Time Later**

 “Oh, Seimei-san, look at this… this is Hiroki Doson,” Hiromasa’s tone changed almost immediately. “He was fired a little over a month ago, I think. He made a big scene about having given his life to the company and had to be escorted off the premises.” Hiromasa paused, remembering. “He was approaching retirement age, and should have gone quietly, but it turns out he was stealing from the pension fund.”

Seimei raised an eyebrow. “So, because he was fired, he didn’t get to reap the benefits of a full retirement plan, I assume.”

“Exactly,” Hiromasa continued. “The Chairman prizes loyalty above all else. To have been betrayed by such a long-standing employee like that was unforgivable. He got nothing.” He watched Seimei rhythmically tap the table, clearly weighing his ideas. “What are you thinking, Seimei-san?”

“I’m thinking that we need to see what Doson is up to these days,” Seimei’s tone grew playful. “I knew working with you would prove fruitful.”

Hiromasa looked down, embarrassed. “I’m sure you would have come across his file on your own,” he adjusted his tie, unsure of what to do with his hands while the other man looked on.

“But it was you that found it,” Seimei corrected, observing how nervous Hiromasa was when offered praise. _How sweet,_ he noted. “Do we know his current address?”

“I’m sure Akiko has it on file somewhere,” Hiromasa replied. “Are we going after him?” He slid the chair out from the desk, ready to stand. Seimei raised a hand and smiled.

“Not yet,” he said softly. “Let us go and pay a visit to Mrs. Murakami and the child. I need to fill in just one or two more gaps before we go after Doson. But first,” he looked Hiromasa up and down, a warmth spreading in his chest – _how handsome he is, when he’s so unaware of it_ – “I grow hungry. Shall we get something to eat on the way? I have a craving for pork buns, and I know the perfect place to get them.”

*

“Seimei-san, where are you taking me?” the pair walked together in the Spring sunlight, winding through the increasingly residential streets.

“Patience, Hiromasa-san,” Seimei smiled, “I’m taking you to my very favourite lunch spot. Look, we’re here,” he pointed with his chin towards the small shop on the corner. Washing the display case and singing softly was Akane-obaasan.

“This is your favourite place for lunch?” Hiromasa was surprised. “You don’t seem the type to enjoy street food, Seimei-san.”

“Oh?” he asked, affecting surprise. “What sort of type do I seem like?” He didn’t give Hiromasa a chance to reply, instead walking up behind Akane-obaasan and gently tapping her shoulder. She turned around, and, recognizing Seimei, patted his cheek and took his hand. From where he stood, watching, Hiromasa couldn’t quite hear what they were saying – but watching how gentle Seimei was with the elderly woman, he smiled. _The papers really do get him all wrong,_ he noted. _He’s not some marble statue without a heart at all._ He shook his head and walked over to them, standing next to Seimei.

“Obaasan, this is Hiromasa-san,” Seimei introduced him. “I’m working with him on a new case.” Hiromasa bowed and smiled at the old woman.

Akane-obaasan reached out and touched Hiromasa’s cheek. “Such a good face,” she mused softly, eyes crinkled in a smile. “You’ll keep my Sei-kun safe, won’t you?”

“Of course, obaasan,” Hiromasa smiled warmly. “I’ll do whatever I can to help him solve the case.” He looked sidelong at Seimei, who was beaming. Emboldened by seeing how lovingly Seimei looked on, he ventured, “Sei-kun tells me that you make the best pork buns in the whole city,” he winked at Seimei, feeling playful after having used the nickname that Akane-obaasan had given him. “I would love to buy a few for our lunch.”

“Oh! You wait right here, I’ll get you some fresh ones.” She slipped back into the shop for a few minutes, leaving Seimei and Hiromasa alone, leaning on the display case.

“Hiromasa-san, that was naughty,” Seimei teased. “I don’t let just anyone call me that.” He raised an eyebrow playfully.

“I’m sorry, Seimei-san,” Hiromasa laughed. “I couldn’t resist. It’s so sweet how she dotes on you. Like you’re her son.”

“I sometimes think that she must confuse me with her son,” Seimei admitted. “Poor Akane-obaasan’s memory is going, you see.”

“Oh, Seimei-san, I didn’t realize…” Hiromasa looked down at the ground, suddenly sad. “She seems to love you very much. I’m sure you make her very happy, even if she sometimes forgets things.”

Seimei could see that he had affected Hiromasa, and reached out and touched his arm. “It’s quite alright, Hiromasa-san. I’m sorry to have made you think of sad things.”

“I won’t tease you about the name again,” he ran a hand through his hair. “Seimei-san.”

“Please,” Seimei ventured, his hand still resting on Hiromasa’s arm. “Just Seimei.”

Hiromasa’s eyes grew wide and looked at the other man a moment. A flash of understanding passed his gaze. His tone grew soft, and he smiled a little. “Alright,” he agreed, nodding. “Seimei.”


	4. Itsumo Koko ni Ite (Please Stay With Me)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the case is closed; but Hiromasa does not want to end his association with Seimei so quickly - and neither does Seimei.

In the end, the case of Murakami Atsuhira’s illness was an easy one to close; Doson, disgraced and left penniless by the company, sought revenge on his boss and knew that the best way to hurt him would be through harming his only child – disguising himself as a produce vendor at Mrs. Murakami’s regular shop, he sold her vegetables treated with Arsenic, knowing that the only one in the family who liked myoga shoots was the child – Mrs. Murakami was always very friendly and often chatted with the store staff. Of course, thinking that it was all her fault, she was considerably grief-stricken; but since the child would recover just fine, Seimei assured her, she eventually forgave herself. Seimei and Hiromasa presented the evidence to police chief Aone, who quietly arrested Doson as to help the Chairman avoid further embarrassment to his company.

The following day, they were summoned to Chairman Murakami’s office.

“How can I ever thank you, Seimei-san? You saved my child. You secured my company’s legacy.” The Chairman shook his hand, a grateful look in his eyes; Hiromasa looked on lovingly. _I knew you’d solve it,_ he thought. _I wish you didn’t have to go…_ the Chairman continued, inviting both men to sit. “Now, about your payment,” he produced a chequebook from his desk drawer and began to scribble. “I trust this amount is sufficient,” he slid the cheque towards Seimei, who took it dutifully and examined it quickly.

“It is more than sufficient, Chairman,” he smiled, “thank you.” He looked sidelong towards Hiromasa, which prompted the Chairman to continue.

“And for you, Hiromasa,” he carried on, “expect a large bonus, for your part in this. You are just as responsible for saving my son as Seimei-san is, and for that I am grateful.”

“Oh, Chairman Murakami, I couldn’t---” he began, but Seimei rested a hand on his arm. Hiromasa reconsidered, and said, “thank you, sir. I’m happy to have been of use to you both, in the end.”

The Chairman smiled. “Quite right. Hiromasa, please take the rest of the day off. You’ll be paid in full, of course. But you have earned a little rest, I think.”

“Thank you, sir!” Hiromasa smiled brightly.

“I will take my leave of you, then,” Seimei rose from his seat, and Hiromasa did the same. _Don’t go…_ he looked into Seimei’s eyes. “Perhaps, now that your afternoon is freed up, Hiromasa, you might join me for lunch?”

*

“I know it’s not much, but this is where I’d bough lunch from, the day I’d bumped into you,” Hiromasa explained as they walked toward the 24-hour mart. “You bought me lunch the other day, so let me buy it for you,” he smiled and opened the door for Seimei.

“Do I really not strike you as the kind of man that enjoys cheap food, Hiromasa?” He mused, enjoying the newfound freedom they both seemed to enjoy after having dropped the honorific. _It’s much more comfortable this way,_ he thought. _Much more intimate._

Hiromasa perused the freshly packed sushi, head bent down in study of each packet. “You have such a refined nature about you,” he explained, “you have a rich face.” He picked up a package of salmon and tuna maki and showed it to Seimei for approval. “Shall we buy this?”

Seimei nodded and pressed his hand gently in the small of Hiromasa’s back, guiding him to the edge of the aisle. Hiromasa fought a rising blush. “Let’s get some snacks, too,” Seimei offered. “Do you like salty or sweet?”

Hiromasa grinned. “You can’t tell that just by looking?” they walked up and down the cramped aisles, eyeing the wide variety of snacks.

“I could make an educated guess, of course,” Seimei explained. “But I would have to conduct experiments in order to ascertain the truth.”

“What sort of experiments could you possibly do to figure that out?” Hiromasa laughed, confused. He picked up a packet of cuttlefish crackers and looked at Seimei. “Do you like these?” Seimei nodded, and Hiromasa added them to the basket.

 _I’d have to kiss you to find out,_ Seimei thought. _Shall I tell you that?_

Seimei paid for their items and the pair walked the short distance over to a nearby park; taking their places on a bench, they unwrapped their sushi and shared the pack.

“I really did enjoy working on this case with you, Seimei,” Hiromasa said after a while. He opened a canned coffee and passed it to the other man. “I’ve never felt so exhilarated. I’m… I’m almost sad that it’s over so quickly.”

“It was thanks to you that I was able to find the culprit at all, Hiromasa. Don’t sell yourself short,” he took a sip from the can. He took a chance. “I enjoyed having you by my side. I usually work alone,” he sat back on the bench and sighed. “I often wish I hadn’t built up this reputation for being quite such an ice-queen.”

“How did you get that reputation, Seimei? From what I’ve seen, you’re a kind man. I can’t believe people don’t see that.”

“I suppose it’s partly my own fault,” Seimei explained. “Since I was young, I’d always deduce things that would get myself or others in trouble, and I lost a lot of friends that way. Even my own parents won’t speak to me anymore,” he took another sip. “I’m responsible for their divorce.”

“Surely not, Seimei,” Hiromasa offered. “How could you have been?”

“Shortly after my sixth birthday, I had figured out that my father was cheating on my mother. I saw it clearly, even though my mother did not. Being naïve, I told her everything. She filed for divorce, and my father had to resign from his company. It broke the family apart.”

“And your brother? Hasn’t he been of help to you?” Hiromasa opened a package of E-Ma and offered Seimei a few pieces.

Seimei took them and popped them in his mouth, continuing, “my brother is much older than I. We were never close, but he did let me stay with him when I turned eighteen and moved away from home. We’ve lost touch since then. He has a cushy government job, now.” He paused a moment. “I think the trauma I’d put my family through at such a young age, it must have stayed with me. I grew up never wanting to hurt anyone ever again. So, I studied criminology and forensics, hoping to one day help people who were hurt or in trouble. And here I am.”

“Here you are,” Hiromasa repeated. Pausing to think his next move over carefully, he rested a hand on Seimei’s thigh. “I am glad you are here, Seimei. You saved a child; you brought joy back to a family. Isn’t that something?”

Seimei smiled, a warmth spreading from where Hiromasa’s hand touched him. “I suppose you’re right, Hiromasa,” he said. He looked at his watch. “Once we have finished our lunch, would you come with me to the shopping center? It’s Akane-obaasan’s birthday in a few days, and I want to buy her something.”

“That’s kind of you,” Hiromasa smiled. “I’m sure she looks forward to your visits every week.”

“Yes,” Seimei agreed, his voice a little sad. “I worry about her, though. When I mentioned that it was her birthday soon, she had no idea. I wonder if she remembers how old she is at all. It’s the least I can do to keep up my visits with her and to spoil her when I can.”

Hiromasa smiled, suddenly bursting with love. “You really are a good man, you know.”

“So are you.”

The pair sat in a happy silence, munching away at their shared lunch. A warm wind rustled the new leaves on the trees overhead.

*

The hunt for the perfect gift for Akane-obaasan was a short one; Seimei picked out a beautiful photo album that he would help her fill with photos from her life – “that’s so thoughtful, Seimei,” Hiromasa approved, “and it will help her to remember, when it is difficult for her.”

Time passed quickly; soon, the sun began to dip in the sky. Confident that he had read Hiromasa correctly, Seimei ventured, “would you like to celebrate the closing of the case with me?”

“Of course!” Hiromasa didn’t hesitate. “What did you have in mind?”

“Actually,” Seimei continued, “a previous client sent me a case of rather delicious foreign beers, if that’s up your street.”

“Sounds like fun! I’ll try anything once.” Hiromasa smiled. _I certainly hope so,_ Seimei thought. _Now, I wonder if Mitsumushi will be home… I’d better tell her to buzz off for the night._

As they walked together, Seimei slyly texted Mitsumushi that he was bringing Hiromasa back to the house and could she please not be there by the time they got home. _I hope she reads that in time,_ he found himself praying.

Seimei turned the key in the door, hoping that they would be alone. As he opened the door and led Hiromasa in first, a voice called from the kitchen. “Welcome home!” _Mitsumushi, you asshole!_ Seimei cursed. _You deliberately stayed home, didn’t you…_ Mitsumushi bounced into the entryway and greeted the men. “Hiromasa-san, it’s been a while! Welcome!” she shot Seimei a cheesy grin. “What are you doing here?” she asked Hiromasa. _As if you don’t know,_ Seimei stared daggers towards her.

“Oh, Seimei invited me back to celebrate the end of the case,” he smiled, completely unaware of the wordless fight Mitsumushi and Seimei were having.

“Seimei…?” Mitsumushi wondered quietly, picking up on Hiromasa’s apparent familiarity with her troublesome lodger. She looked at Seimei questioningly, and Seimei shot her a look that said, _don’t you dare ruin this for me._ Mitsumushi understood and decided to let him off the hook. “You boys have fun,” she took their coats. “I’m going to watch tv in bed.”

“Goodnight, Mitsu,” Seimei’s fake-polite tone matched his fake smile. “See you in the morning.” He looked at Hiromasa and smiled genuinely, eyes soft. “I’ll go get the beers, wait here.” He returned quickly and again pressed his hand gently into the small of the other man’s back. “Shall we?” He extended his arm and offered Hiromasa to go up the stairs first, following close behind. Hiromasa paused at the top of the stairs, not remembering which room was which.

“This one,” Seimei pointed to his bedroom, “the office is too stuffy,” he explained, “and… you’re not a client any longer.” Leading the way, Seimei offered Hiromasa a seat on the couch. Sitting opposite him, he popped open two beers and handed one to Hiromasa.

“This room is not at all what I expected, Seimei,” Hiromasa took a sip of the cold beer. He sighed happily. “You’re right, this is delicious.”

“Whatever did you expect, Hiromasa? Papers strewn about, a magnifying glass on the windowsill, newspaper clippings of past triumphs?” Seimei laughed. “That’s hardly my style.”

“I confess, I thought you would have at least one or two reminders of your successes displayed somewhere,” he looked around. “Don’t you keep a record?”

“I do,” Seimei rose from the couch and walked over to his bookshelf and pulled out a large scrapbook. He handed it to Hiromasa. “I keep the stories in here,” he sat back down next to Hiromasa, a little closer this time. “Have a look, if you like.”

Hiromasa opened the book carefully, almost reverently. Scanning the stories, he smiled and looked back up at the other man. “I’d rather hear it from you,” he smiled, “tell me about the case you feel most proud of, Seimei.”

“Alright,” he agreed. Taking another sip of beer, he rested his head on the back of the couch a moment before beginning. “Last year, a woman came to me, in the dead of night. She was terrified, shaking. Nothing seemed to be able to calm her down; she was due to be married off to her father’s business rival’s son, a way to merge the two companies. She was sick to her stomach; the man, she’d said, was kind enough, handsome enough, but something just didn’t feel right. She didn’t know how to call off the wedding without disgracing herself and shaming her father.”

Hiromasa turned his body on the couch so that he better faced Seimei. “What did you do?” he asked, hanging on every word. His eyes kept flitting from Seimei’s eyes to his lips, and back again – something which made it very hard for Seimei to concentrate.

“Well,” Seimei continued, taking another sip, “in cases like these, when there is no crime, I’m often sought out to act as therapist. This young woman desperately needed someone to talk to about her predicament, so that is precisely what we did. It didn’t take long for me to ascertain the real reason she was so terrified to marry this young man.”

“What was the reason, Seimei?” Hiromasa was hooked on every word that slipped from the other man’s mouth.

Seimei smiled, remembering. “She was hopelessly in love with her best friend, but even she did not know it.”

“Ah! So, she was in love with another man!”

“Not quite, Hiromasa,” Seimei grinned. “Her best friend was a woman.” He offered Hiromasa a Pretz stick and took one himself, crunching.

Realization donned on Hiromasa’s face, and he smiled brightly. “Seimei! Did you help get them together?” he ran a hand through his hair. “How could she not have known that she was in love, herself?”

“People are interesting, Hiromasa,” Seimei explained. “Perhaps she could not see the truth, because she did not wish to see it.” He watched Hiromasa from behind his can of beer, now grown a little warm. He took another sip. “Once I explained it all, she suddenly shot up out of my chair and simply said, ‘Seimei-san, I have to go! There’s something I must do!’ and she was gone.”

Hiromasa looked baffled. “What happened to her? Did she end up marrying the boss’ son, in the end?”

“She didn’t,” Seimei replied, taking the photo album from Hiromasa’s lap. He flipped to the right page, and handed the book back to the other man, pointing to a photo and letter. “That’s her,” he explained. “Look how very happy she is; that’s her best friend – her wife, now – and they took that photo right after their wedding ceremony. She’d confessed her feelings that very night, and flew to Canada to marry. This beer is from them; they sent it to me on their anniversary, a few weeks ago.”

Hiromasa’s smile grew, and he looked as though he was trying not to cry. “That’s such a wonderful story, Seimei,” he patted the other man’s thigh, and left his hand there. “See, you have saved so many people.”

Seimei smiled, and, feeling bold, ventured, “ask me why that’s my favourite case, Hiromasa.”

Hiromasa played along. “Why is it your favourite case, Seimei?” he took one last sip of his beer, finishing it.

“Because I helped someone discover who they truly are.” He took Hiromasa’s empty can and placed it carefully on the table. “And that is one of the most precious things in the world, to me.”

“I agree, Seimei,” Hiromasa moved imperceptibly closer to Seimei on the couch, so that their thighs touched. “You know, you’ve helped me realize some things about myself, these last few days.”

“Have I, Hiromasa?” Seimei played along, his heart beginning to race. “What have you discovered?” His voice was soft, almost expectant.

Hiromasa swallowed hard, as if preparing himself. He rested a hand on Seimei’s thigh and did not move it. “Seimei, I…” he began, unsure of how to say it. Seimei looked at him, eyes soft. He nodded, as if giving the other man permission to continue. “Seimei, can I kiss you?”

Seimei’s heart nearly leapt from his mouth. He placed his hand atop Hiromasa’s and brought his face close to the other man, stopping just short of his lips.

“Kiss me, Hiromasa,” Seimei whispered. “Please.”

Hiromasa pressed a soft, hesitant kiss to the other man’s waiting lips, sighing into the embrace. Seimei gently cupped Hiromasa’s cheeks in his hands and attempted to deepen the kiss, and to his delight, Hiromasa obeyed.

When they broke apart, Hiromasa gently pressed their foreheads together.

Seimei saw his chance, and he took it.

“Will you be my partner?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“Your what?” Hiromasa asked, head cloudy from the kiss.

“My business partner, Hiromasa.” Seimei laughed. “You’re so funny.”

 “Oh! Yes.” He kissed Seimei again, softly. “And… yes to the other thing, too.”

“What other thing?” It was Seimei’s turn to be momentarily confused.

“The thing you want to ask me,” Hiromasa teased, confidently.

“And what would that be?”

“Ask me to stay the night, Seimei.”

Seimei grinned and squeezed Hiromasa’s hand, and kissed his lips again. “Will you stay the night with me, Hiromasa?”

“God, yes.”

 

Another kiss.


End file.
